DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters
are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are
the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2003 by Djinn. This
story is Rated R.
Plato's Gift
by Djinn
Kirk could still smell the
heavy cologne the Platonians had doused him with, the
cologne that no amount of scrubbing could get rid of entirely. He rubbed his forehead, felt his temples
throb. His head was killing him--a kironide
aftereffect coupled with sensory overload from his encounter with 'Eau d'Tacky for Men.'
He glanced over at
Uhura. She was busy at her board, keying
in the warning message for the communications buoy he had set into orbit around
Platonius.
She turned to look at him,
her eyes mischievous enough to make him wonder what exactly she'd put in the
message. "All set, sir." She turned back to the board.
She didn't seem to be demonstrating
any lingering trauma--or attachment--from the little show Parmen
had forced them to put on. He should
have known she'd be fine. Uhura was much
tougher than she looked. And not one to
misconstrue what that kiss had meant.
"Then let's get the hell
out of here. Mister Sulu, ahead warp
six."
"Ahead warp six. Aye, sir."
"I'll be in
sickbay," he said as he pushed himself out of his chair with a little too
much gusto. His head throbbed even
worse. "I've got a headache the
size of Parmen's ego."
Uhura smiled. "My condolences."
He nodded carefully,
unwilling to set the pain in motion again.
He stepped into the turbolift and rode it down to sickbay. McCoy's office was dark; in fact, the main
sickbay ward was darkened so that the few patients could sleep. He saw a light on in Chapel's office, walked
over softly.
She was staring at her
terminal, lost in what looked to be research.
"Miss Chapel?"
She looked up startled. "Sir. I'm sorry.
I didn't know you were there."
She turned to face him.
"What can I do for you?"
"Can you get rid of this
damned cologne?"
She looked immediately
sympathetic. "If I could, I
wouldn't still be wearing mine. I call
it 'I'm-a-Big-Slut Number Five.' Sure to
be a hit on Orion."
He laughed. "I can't even smell it." It was a lie.
He could smell it, just as he could smell Uhura's on the bridge. Neither smelled good. But they didn't need to know that. "All I can smell is my own and it's
giving me a headache."
She stood. "That I can help you
with." She led him out to a
diagnostic bed, ran the scanner over him.
"Part of the pain is a reaction to the kironide. I know you were desperate, but it was
dangerous to inject it without testing it first."
He nodded. "Has Spock been complaining?"
She shot him a look. "I really wouldn't know, Captain."
"He hasn't stopped
by? To see how you are?"
She shot him an even darker
look. "No." She filled a hypospray with one compound then
asked, "Are you going back to the bridge?"
"A captain's work is
never done." He scratched at his arm.
"Then I can't give you
the good stuff." She pulled down another
bottle from the cabinet. "But this should do the trick for now. Come back when you're done with your shift if
it's still hurting, and I'll give you something stronger." She laid the hypospray against his neck, the
metal cool against his skin.
He closed his eyes at the
sensation.
She pulled it away. "You're all set."
"Okay." He scratched at the other arm; the itch seemed
to start back up as soon as he took his fingers away.
"Let me see
that." She gently pulled his hand
away. "Hives. Don't scratch." She scanned him. "You're having some kind of systemic
reaction. I'm going to do a full work
up." She fiddled with her
instruments for a moment, batting away the hand he brought up to scratch. Then she reached for another hypo. "This should help the itching."
Again the hypo felt cool
against his strangely sensitive skin.
"I'm all right for duty?"
"As
far as I can tell from this. If I find anything in my analysis, you'll be
the first to know." She looked down
at his arm, where more red welts stood out.
"Maybe you shouldn't go back to the bridge."
He hopped down from the table. "Shift's almost over. I'll be fine."
She nodded, but didn't look
convinced. "Damn Platonians."
Her tone was bitter.
"Do you need to talk
about it?"
"What? About being humiliated in
front of a jeering crowd. Of
nearly being burned." She held a
hand to her cheek, her voice dropped, became distant. "I could feel the heat coming off that
poker. Even from that far away. I kept thinking, 'This can't be happening.' But it was happening." She seemed to come back to the present,
smiled lightly. "You kept it from
happening. I owe you."
He sat down across from
her. "Part of the
job."
She grinned. "Of hero?"
He nodded.
"You do it well. Keep doing it." Her look darkened. "Next time do it before they bring me
down for the floor show."
"I'll try."
There was an uncomfortable
silence, then he said, "I know you have feelings
for Spock. What happened down there
couldn't have helped."
"Oh, I don't know. I found out he's not much of a
kisser." The joke fell flat and she
looked away.
He waited.
She shook her head in a way
that let him know the discussion was over.
"I need to analyze this, sir.
And you have a ship to steer."
He grinned. "Actually that's Sulu's
job."
She laughed. "Whatever. Go be captain, Captain."
"Aye-aye,
Nurse." He grinned.
She grinned back and the
expression made her look younger, softer somehow. He stood quickly and headed for the
bridge. As he walked down the corridor,
he felt a wave of dizziness and stopped, putting his hand out against the
bulkhead to steady himself.
"Sir? Are you all
right?" a crewman asked.
He straightened. "Fine. Just a tough landing
party."
He smiled at the crewman,
recognized him as Taveris, recently assigned to the
ship. This was his first posting. "Enjoying yourself
so far, Taveris?"
The crewman beamed. "Oh, yes, sir!" His enthusiasm was contagious.
Kirk grinned. "Glad to hear it." He waved Taveris
on, then continued to the turbolift. The trip to the bridge was no longer than
normal, yet he felt a surge of panic, as if the doors were never going to
open. The walls felt as if they were closing
in on him. He nearly ran out of the lift
when it arrived on the bridge.
Uhura shot a startled look at
him. He took a deep breath and slowly
walked to his chair, sitting down gratefully.
Nothing was wrong. Nothing was
wrong. It was a hugely ineffective
mantra. Something was very wrong. He felt a flush, his arm itched again. He could fill the tingle of sweat at his
temples, and he hadn't moved from his chair.
He sat quietly, trying to ignore the strange intense feeling that was
shooting through him. A
feeling that seemed to be centered in his groin.
He fought the need to get up
and pace. He took a deep breath, and it
came out nearly as a pant. He had to get
off the bridge. But how much should he
say to his officers?
"Chapel
to Captain Kirk."
He practically leapt for the comm button on his chair.
"Kirk here."
"Sir, I've found something
you might want to see."
"On my
way." He stood up too quickly, his head swam, and
he grasped the chair.
"Sir?" Uhura was on
her feet, a worried look on her face.
"I'm all right. Just a bad reaction to that
kironide." He shot her his
trademark grin. "I'll see you next
shift. Sulu, you have the conn."
Sulu turned to look at
him. "Aye,
sir." He looked at Uhura,
nodded toward Kirk as if telling her to help him.
She walked toward him, and
Kirk caught a whiff of her perfume. It
smelled nice. That was not a good
sign. He waved her away, hurried off the
bridge.
The turbolift seemed even
smaller this time. He closed his eyes
and counted to ten as the lift slowed and finally opened and he rushed out,
practically running to sickbay.
Chapel looked up at him as he
stumbled in too quickly, nearly crashing into her office door. She shook her head as she steered him into
her chair.
Her perfume smelled
intoxicating. He leaned in and took a
deeper whiff.
She pushed him away. "This is worse than I thought."
"What...the hell...is
going on." He scratched at his arm.
She shot him with another
hypo. "This should stop the
itch." She gave him a strange
smile.
He shook his head, scratched
again.
"Not right this
minute. Give it time to work." She pulled his hand away.
He stared down at her
hands. Her skin was so soft, the fingers
tapered and strong. He looked up at
her. He'd never realized how blue her
eyes were. Or how nice
her legs were. As
nice as Janice's had been. He
smiled.
Chapel knelt down. "Captain Kirk, we need to get you to
your quarters."
He smiled. "Why are you talking to me like I'm drunk? I'm perfectly fine." He reached out and stroked her cheek.
"Perfectly. Right." She
pulled him up, grabbed her scanner and pushed him gently out the door.
He nodded and walked
carefully down the corridor. "I can
get home on my own, Chapel."
A pretty young ensign walked
past and he turned and followed her.
Chapel's grip on his arm brought him up short.
"Your quarters are this
way, Casanova."
"You're out of line,
Chris." He smiled. Chris.
It was a nice name. He didn't
call her that very often. He turned to
look at her. "Spock should have
checked on you."
"Yes,
sir." She herded him into a lift, then back out
when they hit his deck. "Just ahead, sir."
He smiled. His dizziness faded and he walked with more
assurance. He felt good, really
good. He palmed the door open, gestured
for her to precede him. "So, are
you going to tell me what is going on?
I'm most certainly not myself."
"It's that damned
kironide." She locked the door.
"You were fools to use it, even if it did save us all."
"Don't sugarcoat it,
Chris." He grinned.
"Kironide is processed
by the pituitary gland."
He nodded. "I know.
That's why Alexander couldn't use it.
His pituitary doesn't work right.
It's why he's so short."
"That's right. Lack of growth
hormone." She sat down on
his couch, pointed to a chair very far from her. "Sit."
He deliberately sat next to
her. She really did smell great. He scooted closer.
She moved away and began to
scan him, frowning at the readings.
"I thought that injection would help."
"It did. My arms don't itch anymore." He looked down at them; the angry red welts
were gone. "Look, no hives."
"That wasn't exactly the
itch I meant." She held out the
scanner. "Can you read this?"
He saw a lot of funny lines,
all heading upward. "Something
looks elevated. I take it that's not
good." The intense feeling was
coursing through him again and he found himself mesmerized by the way her uniform
clung to her breasts.
"This is FSH, this one
is LH. That kironide you injected caused
your pituitary to overmanufacture these
hormones. Do you know what they
do?"
He shook his head.
"Regulate desire for one
thing." She got up, moved
away. "Sexual
desire."
He couldn't take his eyes off
her. "So your diagnosis is that I'm
horny?"
"To
put it mildly, yes."
He fought the feelings that
were coursing through him. He could
control himself. "You have a
cure?"
She moved over to him,
scanned him. "The levels are
dropping very slowly, so it doesn't seem like a permanent condition."
He was excruciatingly aware
of how close she was standing. He reached
for a pillow, put it over his lap.
"Good." He moved uncomfortably. "This is embarrassing as hell."
She sat down. "It could be hours."
"I'll just pretend I'm a
teenager again."
She smiled tentatively. "I think the levels would fall more
quickly if you were to ummm..."
He looked at her
sharply. She was blushing furiously.
"That's your clinical
opinion?"
She met his eyes. "I think it would help."
Now it was his turn to
blush. "Okay, then. When you're gone. I'll...you know."
She inched closer. "Wouldn't it be better with
someone?"
Hell, yes, he wanted to
say. Instead, he just shrugged.
She looked away, then she slowly reached over and took his hand.
"Chris,
no." He tried to pull away, but not with much
conviction.
"You were kind to me
when we found Roger. You were careful
with his reputation when it was all over.
I've never forgotten that."
He smiled gently. "It wasn't how I wanted that to go for
you."
"No. Me neither." She slowly twined her fingers with his.
He gasped. It was like being a teenager again. The least little movement of hers, the
smallest touch, and he was completely focused on that part of her body. He reached down, rubbed his other hand over
her leg, which she'd pressed firmly against his.
She sucked in breath, then she licked her lips.
He stared at where her tongue had been, mesmerized by the thought of it
touching him.
"And you did save me
from whatever Parmen had planned with that poker." She turned, met his eyes fearlessly.
"Chris. I can't give you anything beyond tonight. It should mean something."
"It will. It'll mean thanks." She gently moved the pillow off his lap; her
hand took its place. "You can't
tell me that you don't want me."
He closed his eyes. "No, I guess I can't."
Her grasp grew firmer. "I tend to be an empirical scientist,
Jim. I like to observe reactions." She looked up at him suddenly. "I can call you Jim?"
"I think at this point
it's required."
She laughed, and he was very
grateful for the genuineness of her smile, for the way her eyes sparkled as she
leaned in to kiss him. Her lips were incredibly soft against
his. He pulled her closer, felt her
tongue run along his upper lip, sending shivers down his spine straight to
where she was still holding him.
"God," he moaned.
He opened his mouth to her,
felt her tongue meet his. His body
surged with desire and he began to open her uniform. Then he stopped. "You're still on duty?"
She shook her head. "Nurse Kimble was nice enough to relieve
me."
"I should give her a
medal," he said as he gently pulled away from her enough to stand. "You don't have to do this,
Chris."
"I know." She stood, took his hand when he held it
out. He led her into the bedroom, was
suddenly in no mood to rush despite the surging hormones telling him to hurry
and take her.
She began to undo his uniform
and he realized her hands were shaking.
"Chris?"
She smiled as if
embarrassed. "It's been a
while." She looked away. "Can you forget how to do it?"
He pulled her close, kissed
her again, and wondered if she had any idea how she felt in his arms, how good
her body felt pressed against his.
"I don't think you can," he whispered as he pulled the last of
her clothes off.
She eased back onto the bed,
her eyes locked with his as he followed her. He kissed her lazily,
holding her close, one hand tangled in her hair. Then he pushed her down,
began to roam, learning the rise and fall of her body with his mouth, his
hands, his tongue. She arched and
groaned and he lost himself in the musky scent of her. Holding her down as she bucked beneath him,
he memorized the way she moved, how warm her belly became where his hand lay
over it, how red her chest was when she finally lay still.
He eased himself up. "See.
You didn't forget how."
She grinned. Pushed him over onto his
back. "Let's see what else I
remember."
Her hand found him again,
squeezing and stroking, the torture exquisite.
Her mouth captured him, her hand holding him more firmly, and he moaned,
his toes curling and his hands digging into the bedspread as she pleasured him.
"Oh, god,
Chris."
He was close, too close. "Chris, if you don't stop--"
Her hand on his lips stopped
his warning, the other hand tightened around him and he gave himself over to
her warm sweet mouth, to her tongue running over and around him. He was not quiet when he came.
She looked up at him and
began to laugh. "I hope these walls
are soundproof."
He pulled her up to him. "I think they are."
"They better be, or your
neighbors will call security on me."
"I'll defend you to the
death."
Her smile was so tender that
he felt something in his chest tighten, something that had little to do with
the hormones that were sweeping over him again.
"I hope you didn't
expect to get any sleep, Chris."
She shrugged. "Just one of the sacrifices a nurse has to
make when caring for a patient."
He kissed her, slowly,
tasting himself on her, knowing she was tasting
herself on him. The thought made him
want her even more. "Please tell me
you don't care for all your patients that way."
"No, you're the
first."
"Good." He grinned.
"You didn't forget that part either." He pushed her to her back, moved over
her. "In fact, I'd give you excellent
marks." He slowly pushed into her,
then groaned as she gripped him, strong muscles holding him like a third
hand. Tight, warm. God, it was heaven.
She was watching his face
intently. "I told you, it's been a
while."
"Is it bad of me to say
I'm glad?"
He kissed her when she
laughed.
Kirk gave himself over to the
motion they were learning together, to the sensation of being captured within
her. She wrapped her legs around him,
clamped down again and he groaned loudly.
"Here comes
security," he whispered.
Her giggle was the sweetest
thing he'd ever heard. Spock had no idea
what he was missing.
-------------------------------
Chapel woke slowly, her back
pressed against Jim's chest. She smiled
as she felt his arm tighten around her.
Then she yawned noisily.
"What? A half hour nap isn't enough for
you?" His voice in her ear was
gently amused.
She turned, cuddling in
against him. She hadn't expected being
with him to be quite this comfortable. Had expected it to be hot...but not warm.
"Good morning," he
said, kissing her softly.
"Good morning."
His hand was moving lower and
she moaned, then she tried to pull away.
"I thought the levels would be down by now. Let me get the scanner."
He held her where she
was. "They are down. I'm fine.
This is just for us." He
kissed her again. "In the time we
have left."
She didn't even try to resist
him. Pulled him down
to her, giving in to his relentless lips, his gentle touch. She moaned and could feel him smile as he
kissed her.
"Am I getting to
you?"
"As if
you don't know the answer to that?" She leaned back, arched as his
fingers moved faster, harder. Every inch
of her ached from the unexpected pleasure of the night they'd just spent
together. It was the best pain in the
world. She cried out, clutching and
moving and finally laying still.
He stroked her hair off her
face. She rolled over, kissed him hard,
a strange passion filling her, a kind of desperation. She knew that they couldn't be together, but
she didn't want this to end. She crawled
on top of him, settled on him with an ease that she wouldn't have believed the
night before. He smiled as he watched
her ride him, his hand grasping hers, holding her as she arched and controlled
him. Then his smile faded, turning to a
look much more intense as he thrust over and over, finally crying out and pulling
her down to him as he shuddered.
She relaxed against him,
kissing his chest as he stroked her hair.
His arms tightened around her.
"It's going to be damned
hard to see you in sickbay, Chris, and not remember this. Not want it back." His tone was more serious than it had been
all night.
"I know." She burrowed her cheek against his
chest. "But..." She couldn't say it, couldn't put her plans,
the plans she'd told no one about, into words.
"But
what?" His touch on her was gentle, sweet.
"I'm thinking about
going to med school." She pushed up
so she could see her face. "It's
what I want to do. What I need to
do."
He nodded,
his look full of tender understanding.
"It's what you should do then.
You'll be a great doctor."
He grinned. "Just look at
your bedside manner. Although I'm not
sure it's still bedside if you're in the bed?"
She laughed. "I don't think it is." Her smile faded.
He sighed softly. "When?"
"The interview is in a
month, when I'm back on Earth for leave.
There's a test if I get through the interview session. That's what I was studying for when you came
in. If I pass, I'll come back to the
ship until school starts a few months later." She looked down. "I guess I need to tell Len."
"Yes, you should. If you need a reference, I'll be happy to be
one."
"Thanks."
She rolled off of him, was
about to get up but he grabbed her, pulled her back.
"Jim, it's time to get
up."
His breath in her ear made
her shiver. "A
few more minutes."
She settled against him,
sighed as his arm came around to hold her close. "It's not fair." She immediately wished she hadn't said
that. He'd misunderstand.
But he didn't. "No, it's not fair, is it?" He tipped her chin up, kissed her with a
heartbreaking mixture of passion and desperation. "But life rarely is. Sometimes the best we can do is squeeze out a
few perfect moments."
"I guess."
He suddenly grinned. "And if you're not on the ship, then you
won't be one of my crew. That might not
be a bad thing."
"No, it might not
be." She kissed him, losing herself
in the feeling of his skin on hers.
His comm
unit sounded. "Bridge
to Kirk."
Chapel started to
giggle. "Busted."
Kirk glared at her, choked
back a laugh of his own as he reached for the button by his bed and said,
"Kirk here."
"Priority message for
you, sir."
"I'll take it in here."
Chapel rolled out of bed, tugged
her uniform on. "That's my
cue."
He pulled a robe on, then pulled her to him for a quick kiss. "Thank you."
"My
pleasure." She grinned.
"And mine."
She hurried out of his room
and managed to get out of the immediate vicinity of his quarters without being
seen. Allowing herself to relax, she
suddenly realized that she had not checked her hair. She reached up, patting down what had to be
the worst case of bed head ever.
"Oh, shit," she said under her breath.
"Miss Chapel?"
She turned, trying to hide
the back of her head from Spock. "Sir?"
He looked surprised at her
formality. "I stopped by sickbay
last night to check on you, but Nurse Kimble said you had already
gone." He looked concerned. "I stopped by your quarters. Several times. You did not sleep there last
night?" It was an unusually
intrusive question from the Vulcan.
Chapel looked down at his
forearms. They were scratched raw.
Hiding a smile, she said,
"No. I didn't sleep there last
night, Mister Spock." She turned to
go.
"Christine?"
She turned back, shot him a
questioning look. He never called her by
her first name if he could help it.
"Would you care to have
dinner with me tonight?"
She smiled gently. The man she'd wanted for so long had finally
asked her out. Too bad for him that he'd
waited until the one day when he could only come in second best. "I don't think that's wise, sir. But I appreciate the offer." She pointed at his arms. "Stop by sickbay later. I'll give you something for that."
He stared at her, his look
slightly perplexed.
She took pity on him. "I'm thinking of going to med school,
Spock. Would you be willing to give me a
reference?"
She saw him process the
implications of her statement. He nodded
gravely. "You will be an excellent
doctor. And I would be honored to
recommend you to Starfleet Medical."
She smiled. This was one hell of a strange morning. "Great.
Thanks. I'll see you around."
He nodded. She turned and fled, feeling as if his eyes
were burning into her back the whole way down the corridor. She turned gratefully into the turbolift,
rode it down one deck to her quarters.
They seemed very quiet, very cold after the warmth of Jim's bed. She forced herself to let that thought
go. She had work to do, and a friend to
tell that she was leaving. McCoy
shouldn't hear that from Kirk or Spock. She
showered, then dressed and hurried down to sickbay.
McCoy looked up as she stood
in his office doorway. "You're not
on duty for a few hours."
She nodded. It should not be this hard to tell him. "I want to ask you a favor."
"Shoot." He smiled up at her.
"I want to go to med
school. And I want your blessing."
"My
blessing? For crying out loud, I've only been telling
you to do this for the last year. It's
about damn time." He sat back, a
look of supreme satisfaction on his face.
"When's your interview?"
"Next month."
He turned to his terminal,
began calling up files, started sending them to
her. "Then you have a lot of
prepping to do. If they like you,
they'll make you take the aptitude test.
And of course, they're going to like you."
She walked over to him, leaned
down and hugged him tightly. "I
love you."
He patted her arms where they
folded around his chest. "Ah, darlin', you know that I love you too. Now get to studying."
"Right."
She turned around, walked out
of his office, a happy grin on her face.
Then her grin grew. Kirk stood in
her office doorway. He held up the
scanner.
She walked down to him, aware
that she was moving her hips in a manner far more suggestive than she normally
would have done around him. "Sir."
His smile was perfectly
proper yet it still sent a shiver down her spine. "You forgot this."
She held out her hand, he
dropped it in her palm. He didn't touch
her. She closed her fingers around the
scanner.
"When did you say you'd
be starting med school?" He grinned
at her, then he headed down the hall to McCoy's
office.
She heard McCoy say,
"Just a minute, Jim. I have to grab
my stuff if we're going down to the planet." He bustled past Kirk, into the main sickbay
area.
Kirk turned, stared at
her. His expression was unreadable; he
didn't look away. She didn't look away either.
Finally, McCoy came
back. "Okay, let's go."
The jovial captain was back
immediately. He smiled and followed
McCoy out.
As he passed her, she said,
"Safe trip."
"Goodbye, Chris,"
he said, the smile in his eyes changing to a look full of want, a look that was
quickly pushed away.
"Goodbye," she
whispered, then turned back to her office to start studying. It took her a long time to stop thinking of
the very recent past and concentrate on her future.
FIN